My Life as Mimi
by WhisperedTruths
Summary: He's been pining... She's moved on. She has a life, she has a story. It doesn't include him. She still loves him. Can he find a way into her life, her story? Can she let him back inside her heart?
1. Flying Maureen

Disclaimer: Jonathan Larson was a genius. I did not create RENT. I am simply borrowing the characters. I do own Angela and anyone else you do not recognize.

Things to know: Roger left for Santa Fe and came back. Mimi went missing, but they never found her on Christmas eve. It's been three years.

She didn't look back on her past often. But, on days like today she couldn't help it. She had been up at 3 am for her 4 am shift. Work, she loved it. She just didn't love the waking up early. And today, her boss had worked her extra hard. She didn't have time to even take a shower. She had to go to her doctors appointment at 5 pm, then she had plenty of shopping to do and it was Christmas eve. So while walking down the streets of New York City, in between stores, she couldn't help but think about Christmas eve four years ago, when she asked a stranger to light her candle. And he lit it, reluctantly. She had loved him, she had loved him so much that she hated him. Their love was real. She sighed. It had been just under three and half years since she had loved a man like that.

Sure, the demise of the relationship was entirely her fault. She didn't question that. She was a junkie who didn't want to quit. And he didn't want to wait around and watch her stumble in high as a kite every night. She didn't blame him for breaking up with her, but she wished he could have done it a little nicer. He destroyed her world, right at the same time as her best friend was losing the battle of life to AIDS. He left, something about a restaurant in Santa Fe. She tried to get clean, She tried to resist the burning urges in my veins in hopes that he would come back to her. She wasn't planning on…

She checked herself out of rehab. She went on a binge. It wasn't something she was happy about, but she just couldn't have it. It got cold quickly living on the streets. She had been well aware of the fact that a mere cold could kill her. She didn't care. She was already dead without him. It was Christmas eve, three years ago, that a stranger had found her half dead in the park shivering under a bench. That stranger took her straight to the hospital and didn't leave until they knew she was okay.

She wasn't okay for nearly a month. Her strange savior had stuck around the whole time. After a few days of in and out consciousness she had learned her savior's name, Angela. Angela was a sixteen year old runaway, and the woman, well she had convinced her to go back home because Alphabet city would devour Angela.

_"Not that I am complaining or anything Ang., just I've been there. I've done the whole runaway thing, I've lived on the streets and believe me when I tell you that you'll end up exactly like me. HIV, heroin addicted, knocked up, and the things you'll do for money… Go back home."_ The dying woman had told the kid who nodded her head in return.

_"I don't want to go back. I'll take my chances…" _

_"I'm stronger than you, I'll know better, I'll stay away from drugs, I'll get a decent job that won't use and abuse me, I'll find happiness here, anything is better than home! I've heard it all before! I've said it all before. It doesn't work that way, nothing ever does Angela! You'll be cold in no time. You'll be hungry just as soon. And you'll be scared. It'll start off slow and simple. You'll get a crappy dead end job, the pay sucks but money buys food. The Man, he'll start harassing you. Nothing big at first, a few derogatory comments here and there, then the looks will come. He'll succeed in making you weary of him, he'll make you feel like you're worth nothing but sex. Then he'll start the unwanted touching, and before you know it you'll be crying at him to stop, to make it all stop. And Angela the first hit is always free. You and him, you'll be in a relationship. He provides the happiness in the form of a needle and you give him money. You'll think you have it under control. You'll think it won't get out of hand. But the cravings come sooner than your paycheck, and you'll do anything for a hit. He'll take you up on it. He's you're friend. He'll find you a new job, better paying but the kinds that make you hurt so much in the inside so you'll come running to him again. The Man will introduce you to someone looking for a roommate and the rent is cheap. And before you know it, you're me. Go home Angela." _The woman held back tears as she told Angela her inevitable future.

_"I'm staying here, with you. I feel safe here with you. Can't I just stay?" _The woman sighed, she didn't know what to say. She nodded her head. The next day the older girl called her father. Angela called her mother.

The woman walking down the streets holding a coffee was not the same girl that was dying in the hospital but one who had gotten her life together even if it meant calling home, going home. She had come to the conclusion that she needed help. Her love was gone, probably still in Santa Fe, probably some big rock star over there. It didn't matter though, she wouldn't go back to him. She loved him too much to destroy his life, again.

"OH MY GOD! MIMI!" The woman didn't even bat an eye to the name, she just kept walking.

"Oomph." She remarked as she found herself flat on her back on the snowy sidewalks, her coffee spilt all over her jacket.

There was a woman on top of her, hugging her, or at least trying to, it felt more like strangulation. She pushed the woman off of her and rolled onto her side, trying to catch her breath. She dropped the coffee cup, it was empty now anyway. As she stood up she toppled over to the left side. She looked down and realized her heel had broken.

"Look at what you've done Maureen. You spilt her coffee, broke her heel and practically killed her, and it isn't even her." A black woman ranted and Maureen looked guilty. It was cute. The woman coyly smiled as she kneeled down to gather the contents of her purse.

"It's okay, really. Nobody's hurt right? No need to make a big deal about it Joanne." The woman grinned as she walked away, well more like limped. Her foot hurt, she hoped it was just a minor twist. She couldn't afford to sprain it.

"Yeah, well were sorry anyway." As she was walking in the opposite direction, she didn't get to see when the realization crept onto their faces.

"Hey. Stop right there Ms. Marquez." She stopped abruptly at Maureen's command. It was just a matter of seconds before Maureen and Joanne wrapped their arms around her, sandwiching her in a hug. She laughed and hugged back.

"We thought you were dead." Maureen stated later in a nearby café.

"We looked for you all over the place. Hospitals, morgues, alleyways, parks. I guess after New Years we just stopped looking…" Joanne continued.

"Roger was devastated when the police came up with a body matching yours. He wouldn't go to the morgue to identify the body. Joanne and I went, it wasn't you."

"I knew that." The woman, 'Mimi', added.

"Haha. Tell us what have you been doing?" Joanne jumped into the interrogation. She really was a lawyer.

"Is this the inquisition?"

"Pookie, we should take her back to the loft, to Roger. He'd love that. I mean it's all he ever wants for Christmas." Maureen paused and lowered her voice to mock Roger's. "I just want Mimi back, I want to tell her I love her and stuff."

"What exactly is stuff?" 'Mimi' laughed while purposely ignoring the invitation to the loft.

"Maureen, maybe she has a new man or something…"

"Something? What's a something?" 'Mimi' questioned. They weren't hearing you of course. Some things never change.

"…it could devastate Roger to bring her home and she's attached." Joanne continued. The lawyer stopped as she noticed the young latina woman waving her arms around trying to get their attention. Both Joanne and the drama queen turned to look at 'Mimi.'

"I don't have a new man." She looked at Maureen about to say something and interjected: "I'm not looking for a relationship, especially with Roger."

"You're insane. Do you know how in love you two were?"

"Yes, Maureen I know. I was there, wasn't I?" 'Mimi' paused.

"Look, I should get going. I have to cook a fucking feast tonight and I have been awake since 3 this morning. Plus I need a shower. It was really nice running into you two, I'll contact you." She got up and grabbed her jacket and purse. She paused for a few seconds wondering if the two women would stand to give her hugs, when there was nothing but smiles she left the building.

Once outside she shook her head. She wasn't going to keep in touch with them. She didn't know their number, if they were still living at their apartment, where Joanne worked now. She knew she could contact them at the loft, but she wasn't going there anytime soon. She started walking back to the studio, six or seven blocks away, where her car was parked. She was really hating that she broke her heel. The shoes cost $600. She didn't buy them, but that didn't matter. Her ankle was killing her, it was a week before opening day. She couldn't afford to lose her place in the show.

"Mimi, wait up for a second." She stopped and turned to see the lesbian couple coming up behind her.

"Look, we're sorry." Joanne started.

"We didn't know it was such a touchy subject with you." Maureen continued. Joanne gave her lover an annoyed look.

"That's not what's wrong." Joanne attacked her girlfriend.

"Well then, honey bear, what is?" Maureen provoked.

"Hey, you guys, stop fighting. Nothing is wrong. I have to get home." 'Mimi' was relieved when they turned and listened to her.

"Can we get you're number then? I'm sorry, it's just we don't believe you'll keep in touch." Joanne hesitantly asked. It was true, though. 'Mimi' went fishing in her purse for a pen and a piece of paper, instead she came up with a crayon and gum wrapper. Nevertheless it worked.

"Hey, Merry Christmas." 'Mimi' yelled over her shoulder after they hugged goodbye.

"Merry Christmas!" The couple shouted back, then continued to argue. Some things really never change.

'Mimi' finally made it to her car. It was classy green Honda sedan, maybe a year or two old. The inside was a complete disaster. Shopping bags and dirty clothes littered her back seat. She threw her stained jacket back there to join the rest of her laundry. She turned the car on and sat while it warmed up. She carefully pulled her boot off and winced at the purple swollenness of her ankle. Yeah, she was definitely going back to the doctors. She wouldn't be able to cook dinner. She turned the heat on and pulled out her cell phone.

"Ang. Hey it's me. Yeah I know I'm late. Not that kind of late, yes I'm sure. Well I didn't take a pregnancy test, okay? Did you? Hmm. Maybe it was Lucy or one of the dancers. Jesus Christ, Angela, It's not mine, I haven't had sex in like three years, okay?…Oh, well that's just mean. I can't believe you did that…. Yeah, yeah. You're so sorry. Whatever…. Haha… Anyway, I have to go to the hospital. I think I sprained my ankle. My heel broke. Well, I was attacked by a flying Maureen. A flying Maureen? I suppose it's like a giant flying squirrel, yes like Rocky…. You're cooking dinner tonight Bullwinkle. Alright, hate me then. I got to go. Hasta Luego"

Maureen wrapped her arms around the waist of her girlfriend, and leaned in for a kiss. She was in love. But sometimes love was destructive. They were always fighting, her and Joanne. They were always breaking up only to get back together again. They couldn't stand to be apart. Ironically they couldn't stand to be together. Maureen just hoped that their little spat earlier in the coffee shop wasn't going to be the end, especially since it was the holidays and nobody wants to be alone.

"Honey bear, are we alright?" Maureen whispered in her lawyer's ear. When she heard Joanne giggle she knew they would survive this little argument.

"Why do you think Mimi doesn't want to get back together with Roger?" Joanne asked out of the blue.

"Why does it matter?" Upon seeing the look on Joanne's face she attempted to answer the question. "Maybe she's afraid he'll hurt her again, or she'll hurt him. Probably the same reasons we have."

"But we always get back together. Do we just love each other more than they did. I always thought they'd be together in the end no matter what. I always wanted what they had."

"What we have is better. I love you, my sexy little lawyer." Maureen cooed. They were outside the loft now and Joanne was calling Mark to throw down the key. They didn't like to wait outside in Alphabet City too long. Usually Mark would come downstairs and escort them up. This time he threw down the keys.

"I love you too, even when you are a drama queen." Joanne pulled the petite red head into an embrace. There they were, two women making out in the snow, in the middle of the street in Alphabet City.

"You got the keys lovebirds?" A voice interrupted them. The women turned around and came face to face with Collins and a bottle of Stoli. They all laughed and walked up the stairs to the freezing cold loft.

"Merry Christmas Bitches!" The three of them sang out to the Boho boys. Roger got off the couch and put his guitar down and hugged the three of them. Mark was too busy fussing with his camera to greet them.

"Hey guys. My parents sent me some film equipment." Mark announced, he couldn't contain his excitement. And neither could Maureen for that matter.

"Mimi is alive!" Maureen announced. Roger was too busy opening the door, expecting her to be standing outside. When he didn't see her, he ran to the fire escape. She wasn't there either.

"Where?" He grabbed Maureen and started shaking her by the shoulders for information.

"Um. The downtown, I guess. She looked really good. She pretended not to hear me when I shouted her name. It was cute I guess, until someone got hurt."

"You hurt her?" Mark put his camera down.

"No, no. I just tackled her to the ground is all. She said she was fine. I was talking about her pretty boots." Maureen clarified.

"But did she say she was fine, like she was uh, not fine?" Roger asked.

"Jeeze, boy, calm down. Why don't you call her?" Joanne handed the rock star Mimi's number. He was almost too quick to grab it, he almost tore the gum wrapper to shreds. He practically ran to the phone. Everyone in the loft knew that he hadn't quite processed what he was about to do. He dialed the number and waited impatiently for her to pick up the phone.

"Bueno! Casa de Marquez." A young female voice answered.

"Uh, I think I might have the wrong number." He paused.

"Is this Chris or Bobby? Hold on, she just walked in, err, limped in." Roger shot Maureen a dirty look even though he still doubted whether this was the right number.

"Marq. I think it's Chris or Bobby. What happened?" Roger could hear the voice talk to someone named Mark, he was about to hang up when he heard her voice.

"Bueno. Bobby? Chris?" She asked into the phone. He'd know that voice anywhere.

"Mark, eh?" He teased into the phone.

"Chris is that you? You're such an asshole. Marq. You know Marquez. God, how many times do I have to explain this to you. Anyway I'm glad you called, saves me from doing so anyway. I sort of sprained my ankle, I'll be on crutches for at least a week. I can't make rehearsals. I'm sorry."

"It was a flying Maureen." Roger could hear laughing in the background. He once again shot a dirty look at the flying diva.

"Shut up Ang." Mimi shouted back.

"Well sorry to disappoint Marq. But this is neither Chris nor Bobby." He heard nervous laughing on the end of the phone and he wondered if she figured out who he was.

"Oh well I knew that. So?" She paused and he didn't want to tell her who he was.

"Would you light my candle?" She sang into the phone and he instantly smirked.

"Your hair in the moonlight" He sang back and they shared in a mutual laugh.

"Damn Maureen. She really knows how to complicate my life." She muttered.

"Actually it was Joanne."

"Well, screw her two." He laughed at that. He had really missed her.

"I'd love to talk longer Roger and catch up, but it's late and I haven't eaten and I am so tired I could die. Maybe we'll talk tomorrow. It's not like I have a job to go to." He hated where this was going.

"I got to go. Bye." She hung up the phone without letting him respond. He turned towards Maureen, she would be in trouble.

Marq walked into the kitchen and sat down. She was too tired to eat. Angela came over and placed a plate in front of her.

"I know it's not much, but I know you don't have much appetite anyway." Angela remarked.

"Well the dying aren't really hungry for anything except life." Marq responded.

"Can you not talk about your impending death this week. Please?" Angela pleaded with her friend and roommate.

"Okay. You win."

"Mama!"

"Mama!" Two little voices interrupted her conversation. A little boy and little girl appeared in the kitchen. They couldn't have been much older than two. Both were dressed in pajamas. Marq got up and picked them both up in one big swoop. Angela was there immediately to help Marq regain her balance since her foot was sprained plus the fact that Marq was so weak..

"I got them, I'm okay." Marq reassured her friend who was more like a little sister.

"What are you two doing up? It's late. Santa isn't going to bring anything to little niños who stay up past their bedtime."

"Song!" The little boy demanded.

"Sí! Song!" The girl reiterated.

"What do you say?" The mother asked as she placed the two into their beds.

"Por favor Mama." The little toddlers said at the same time. Marq smiled and sat in the rocking chair between the two beds. She began to sing a Spanish lullaby. Pretty soon the little kids were sound asleep. Their mother was too.

A/N: I am looking for names for her kids, prefavorably spanish and/or catholic, so give me your ideas. Oh and if anyone was confused about hernot being called Mimi, it's because i feel that she ran away from home and changed her name. She's nicknamed Marq by Anglea and people at work. When her blood family is introduced you'll find out her real name, that i chose for her. Anyway I hope you enjoyed. Oh and if you read my other story, i haven't forgotten about it, just can't stop thinking about RENT so be patient.


	2. As It Turned Out

A/N: I don't own RENT and the sad truth of the matter is that i never will. Anyway, if you don't recognize someone, they belong to me. Enjoy the chapter and Review. By the way, i'm still looking for some names.

_The night was young and dying. She was the night. At only fifteen she learned she was dying. The doctors said she had time, that although it was a setback, it wasn't a death sentence. At sixteen they told her she'd die in a year. She waited 365 days to die, no such luck. At seventeen she started using drugs. At eighteen she was told to stop getting high because it was draining years off her already expired life. At eighteen and a half drugs were all she lived for. At nineteen she fell in love. At twenty she ran away to die on the streets. At twenty she learned she was pregnant. At twenty one she gave birth, to twins, a boy and a girl. At twenty two she opened up the blood test results, one child healthy, the other dying. At twenty two she learned how serious the disease was. At twenty three she wrote a book. This is the book._

When she woke up her ankle was throbbing and her head was pounding. She glanced at the clock, 3 am. She hoisted herself up off the rocking chair and crashed to her knees. Normally she would fight this, stand up and ignore the pain emanating in her foot. She would stand up and ignore her obvious weakness. But this morning she resigned and accepted it. She crawled into her bedroom and to her private bathroom. She started the water, a hot bath would make her feel better. It usually did.

Just as she started the bath, she had an urge to throw up. She crawled over to the toilet and waited until it came. She hadn't eaten much that day so all that came up was stomach acid which burned her throat. She wouldn't have much of a voice tomorrow. She leaned over the toilet for a few minutes afterwards just in case she hadn't finished. When she was sure that she wouldn't throw up again, she flushed the toilet and pushed herself up to her feet. Her foot throbbed in pain. She ignored it. She grabbed her mouthwash and proceeded to gargle away the nasty taste of bile. After she spit out the mouthwash she took off her clothes, her bath was nearly full of water and bubbles. She didn't remember putting bubble bath in the tub. She didn't question it, she was losing her short term memory.

The water was hot and burned her skin at first. The heat was relaxing and comforting. She was so tired of always being cold.

_Chapter 1_

_My older brother Rafael and I were always close. My mother thought it was cute, that he was like my best friend. She would always tell me that Rafael would scare away all my future boyfriends. She smiled at the thought of me being single for my whole life. It had something to do with keeping her little girl young and innocent. Things didn't work out like that. My father was weary of my relationship with Rafael. My father would always tell my siblings and I about visions he would have. Her said that he once saw our mother in a dream, her black hair blowing in the wind._

_"Sure, enough. The very next day I saw her and her hair blowing in the wind. She stepped off her motorcycle and gave me the biggest grin." He would smile from cheek to cheek as he said this even after they divorced._

_When I asked my father about his dislike of me and Rafael's relationship he told me of a vision he had when I was born. He squirmed in his seat as he told me this, I was only about six. He didn't know how to phrase it so I could understand. He basically told me that I would be a victim of rape and incest. As it turned out, he was right. But it wasn't Rafael. When he told me this, I didn't understand no matter how he dumbed it up. _

_"But papa, I like playing with Raffe. He's fun." My father sent me to my room so I could think about what I had done. Really, he needed time to think and wanted me gone from his sight. He never again questioned my bond with Raffe. _

_Raffe always protected me. When our parents were fighting, he would pick me up and take me to his room and we'd dance to the Beatles. When our mother was crying after our father finally left, he'd scoop me up into his arms and we'd listen to the words of John Lennon. When our sister Lucy, the middle child, was in the hospital with appendicitis, he taught me how to roller blade. And when I fell and started crying so loud that little old ladies were adjusting their hearing aid to a lower volume, he rushed me to the emergency room. I had broken my arm and as a result my parents grounded him for the whole summer. He never let me apologize when he missed Cathy McGibbs summer swim party, or his best friend Tony's camping trip. Rafael was a good person, a great man, and the best brother ever._

_I was never a controllable kid. Raffe was the only one in our family to get me to do anything. It was because I respected him, more so than my bickering parents and my bossy sister. When I entered kindergarten I was determined to be the best student, only I wasn't counting on falling prey to peer pressure. I was such a wild kid, wanting to live a good full life that when someone dared me to do something, I did it. By the end of third grade, I had done some pretty despicable acts and as a result the principal had asked me to not return the following year. I was without a school by the time my mother picked me up. She stayed to talk to my principal and I remember looking into the window from the outside and seeing my mother get down on her knees and beg the school to take me back. I don't remember much after that, I was probably distracted by a toy or magazine. My mother was so disappointed in me. So disappointed that I was lectured the whole way home, in Spanish, about responsibility and respect. She was so disappointed in me that she sent me to a Catholic girls boarding school for the rest of my education. _

_I learned quickly which rules I could break, and those that I shouldn't unless I wanted to get expelled. Well, I wanted to get expelled so I pushed the limits. I wanted to go home, I wanted to cry in my mother's arms and tell her how sorry I was, I wanted to see my father again. I wanted to get Raffe to beat up mean Sister Catherine. And I just missed Lucy. When my mother came to visit me one weekend, shortly after the start of the term, she picked me up into her arms hugging me with all her might and she was crying. She kept telling me that she missed me, that she loved me, that she missed me and loved me. I don't think she said much more than that to me the whole weekend. I never had the courage to ask to come home after that. I stopped breaking the rules just so I could prove to Mama that I could do it._

_As it turns out Sister Catherine had called my mother and explained that I was acting out because I was homesick and needed some reassurance that I was still apart of my family, that I wasn't being punished. It worked. I was a good student, not a perfect one. I still succumbed to peer pressure. In seventh grade, when my roommate, Hilary, dared me to give the priest a blow job (yes, I knew what that was when I was twelve) I had nothing holding me back. I walked into the church during lunch I told Father Sebastian that I couldn't eat because I needed to talk. He asked if I wanted to confess, I shook my head._

_"Talk, not confess. I haven't done anything wrong today." I told him. He nodded his head and led me to the first pew. I shook my head._

_"It's private. If we talk here anybody could walk in and hear me." He looked suspicious but I hadn't done anything , really, wrong since I was in fourth grade. _

_"We could talk in my office if you'd prefer." I nodded my head and followed him to the little closet her called an office. He immediately picked up his bible. I smiled coyly. _

_"What are you going to do? Throw it at me?" He laughed at me and put it down._

_"Now, tell me. What is bothering you?" I scooted my chair next to his. And I looked down at his pants. He thought I was looking at my shoes. _

_"Can I give you a blow job?" I got down on my knees after I said it. He looked horrified and picked me up by one arm. He practically dragged me to the front office. _

_I was suspended for two weeks, only because I told them I was dared, and even then only after I ratted out my roommate. I had to write a ten page paper about how sex is wrong, all sex. I had to apologize to Father S. and as punishment I would have to clean up the church after Sunday service for the rest of the year. _

_My mother didn't pick me up. Neither did my father. Rafael and Lucy came to get me, they had to take two busses and a train to get me, but they did. Raffe didn't say anything, he didn't judge me at all. Lucy kept nagging me, lecturing me, but I could tell she was amused with the situation. When I got home, my mother was in bed crying and my father was stark raving mad (he had come over for my homecoming). Lucy left the room immediately, Raffe exchanged some words with our Father that I couldn't make out and then he too left the room. I sat down on the couch and waited for the yelling. I didn't have to wait long. He started screaming so loudly and quickly that all I could make out was that "he didn't raise his daughter to be a whore" in which I responded "raised? You left when I was seven, you sent me to a fucking boarding school. Raised? Sister Catherine raised me, not you." I should have kept my mouth shut. He slapped me so hard that I passed out, or at least I thought I had. I was just too shocked to remember the rest of what happened. My father never laid a hand on me again. By the time I was leaving to go back to school he was laughing at about like it was some old joke._

_My mother did not have the same reaction. She just cried about it, and cried about it. When she stopped crying she wouldn't talk to me. She ignored I was there. I had spent the first week trying to talk to her, apologizing, crying. I even threw a dish at the wall, hoping to get a reaction out of her._

_"Lucy could you clean that up, por favor?" She responded. I left the room and started to pack my bags. I didn't know where I would go, but I refused to be ignored. I was a presence, people sure as hell better notice me._

_Rafael walked in on me attempting to climb out the window. He shook his head at me. He grabbed my shirt and pulled me inside._

_"You're going to fall and hurt yourself hermana." He told me as he sat on my bed. He proceeded to lecture me about how I had screwed up. That Mama was punishing me because I deserved it, and he told me to not fight it. He told me what my place in the family as the youngest child was, that I wasn't supposed to break the rules, I was supposed to learn from his and Lucy's mistakes. Well he never made any mistakes, at least not in my eyes, and neither did Lucy. She was the perfect child, not me. _

_I went back to school without a goodbye from my mother. I hated her so much. But she called me a week later saying she wanted to take me out to breakfast on Saturday morning, and to be ready. She showed up at midnight knocking at my door. She shushed me when I started cursing in Spanish, and helped me change into some clothes. In the car she told me that was against the rules, and technically she was kidnapping. We pretended the whole time we were fugitives. She was forgiven in my eyes. _

_I didn't mess up at school again for a long time. But I met Mimi a year later. After running laps one day in the locker room a couple of girls had called me fat. I wasn't but I didn't see that. So when I looked in the mirror I focused on my flaws, on my curves and my giant ass. I hated it, I hated who I was in the mirror. I later named her Mimi._

_My family saw the change in me immediately after term let out for the holidays. They didn't say anything but at dinner they would always put extra food on my plate. I pushed my food around, taking a few bites. I started to become closer to Lucy as I grew farther apart from Raffe. Raffe was always trying to ask about my health and he was always so secretive about his life. Lucy, although she made it clear to me, in not so subtle hints, that anorexia is wrong and she didn't approve, taught me how to use makeup, and how to make the boys go wild.. She used hypothetical friends of friends to reiterate her point. Mama was just as discrete leaving pamphlets about eating disorders on my pillow, in my sock drawer, taped to my mirror. My papa would tell me I was beautiful and he liked me just as I was. My uncle Richard told me that curves looked good on a woman, and that they were trademark for a young Hispanic woman like myself, just as the big butt was. _

_I ignored it, everyone of their pleas. I went back to school only ten pounds thinner, making me 105lbs. Needless to say, I wasn't thin enough. I spent the whole semester dieting and put my heart and soul into gym class. The girls never called me fat again, they started to look scared when they could see my ribs, and every other bone for that matter. They went to Father S. and Sister Catherine and asked them to talk to me. It didn't work. The year ended and I was hovering between 89-91 lbs. _

_That summer my parents took action once they realized it wasn't just some phase. They had sent me to a clinic over the summer in hopes that I would get better. Two weeks into it, I had to go home. I sneezed and broke two ribs. I really was, and still am, a dreadful person to have in the hospital. I refused to eat. And when they fed the food to me through a feeding tube I learned to vomit it back up. They didn't want me to develop another eating disorder so the lovely doctors called my parents and told them what had happened. _

_My mother and father made coming home that summer a bitch. Sure, I was in pain from the broken ribs, and sure I was weak as hell but that didn't stop them from making sure my life was miserable. My mother moved into my room and slept with me, cuddling up real close on the hot summer night. She would handcuff me to the bed when my psychiatrist would come, forcing me to talk to her. _

_"When you look you in the mirror, what do you see? Who do you see?" My doctor asked me one day when I actually felt like talking._

_"I don't see me." I was asked to elaborate. "I don't know. I see her and she looks like me, but she's not, she's someone else. She's fat."_

_"Let's name her."_

_"Mimi" I said after a few moments of thinking._

_"So Mimi is fat?" Linda, my doctor had asked me a year later as I was still struggling with the disease, just this time I kept my weight at a healthy 95 pounds._

_"Well, yeah." _

_"Do you think Mimi likes it when you call her fat? You didn't like it when those girls at school called you fat. Why would you make Mimi hurt like that?" Ah. Guilt. It's very common amongst us Catholics. And it worked. Once I stopped calling Mimi fat, I started to see myself again._

_By the time I was in high school I wanted to go to public school. I was done with boarding school. I was starting to look healthier. I was starting to feel like myself again and I wanted a boyfriend. I wanted to see if Uncle Richard was right and to test out my new curves on the boys. It wasn't hard to convince to my parents, they felt that the closer I was to them, the closer eye they could have on me. Plus high school at Catholic boarding schools had quite the reputation, and not the one that my parents liked. _

_They moved me to another boarding school, it was mixed, and closer to home. We were allowed, and expected, to go home for the weekends. My English teacher Mrs. Thomas, was not Catholic, or religious at all. In fact she wasn't even married, but we were required to call her Mrs.. She was an atheist, which provided for such an interesting class. She would sneak in pieces of literature that were banned. And that was when I fell in love with poetry. When Mrs. Thomas brought in some of the beatnik poets I craved more. She would sneak some photocopies of poems to me by stapling them on the back of my papers she returned to me. One day she asked me try my hand at poetry. I wrote so much shit, and sometimes something worthy to show her. She asked me come up with a pen name in case someone found it and I got in trouble. I didn't believe I would, I did have the freedom of speech and press. I found that I wrote better though, without the feeling of being judged. So I wrote about my struggles with anorexia and peer pressure. Actually Mimi wrote about them._

_The day before my quinceniera, my fifteenth birthday party, my uncle picked me up from school. I was leaving a day early to help plan everything but my parents were working and couldn't pick me up. I was so excited that I didn't notice when my uncle took me to his house, about three miles in the opposite direction of my home. I finally snapped to when we were at his front door. When I asked him what we were doing here, he didn't answer. He opened the door and shoved me inside. My father's crazy vision had come true. _

_I walked home that night, alone and scared. When I entered my house my parents were pissed, Raffe was angry, Lucy was shocked. She seemed to take in my appearance. When she gasped and ran to me, pulling me into a much needed hug, Raffe caught on and hugged me too. He was crying. When my parents asked what was going on, Raffe turned around and answered for me. My father ran out the door, cursing and muttering "I'll kill him." My mother backed into a corner, unable to believe her brother was a monster. She left the room. Raffe followed her and Lucy led me to the couch. She sat me down and asked if I wanted to talk about it. I shook my head. I felt so disillusioned. How could my God let this happen to me? Lucy went to the kitchen to grab her car keys so she could drive me to the hospital. _

_There was knocking on the door, pounding actually. Lucy dropped her keys in fright. I started crying and ran into the kitchen looking for somewhere to hide, Lucy's arms would do. Raffe answered the door. There was arguing and I knew it was my Uncle Richard. When I heard what sounded like a fist fight I escaped from my sister's embrace. Raffe needed me. But Lucy was on my heels and tried to hold me back. Raffe was screaming at me to run away. But I wouldn't. All that was going on through my head was that Richard would kill my brother. And I owed Raffe so much. I never did say thank you for all those times he was there for me. _

_I pushed Lucy to the ground and ran as fast as I could. I intended to put myself between Richard and Raffe. I didn't care if Richard raped me again. He couldn't do much more damage to me anyways. I wasn't counting on Raffe pushing me away. I kept struggling. And then, somehow there was a gun and it went off. I remember falling onto my back, Raffe right on top of me. This was a horrifying position for me. But it was even worse right then because my brother was dying. I was screaming. I wasn't aware of much more than that I was screaming and crying and Raffe was dying._

_"I'm sorry." Raffe whispered to me before he closed his eyes. He never opened them again._

_As it turned out the bullet went through Raffe's chest and into mine. As it turned out Raffe was gay and addicted to heroin. As it turned out Raffe had HIV._

_When I woke up, later in the hospital, Lucy was there. She looked like she had been crying. I knew why. She told me though anyway. She told me he died, that Raffe was sick with HIV. She told me that I probably had it too now. I groaned and fell asleep. I woke up again to my mother's sobbing. I opened my eyes._

_"Mama." I squeaked out. I barely had a voice. _

_"I wish it was you." I thought she would have said 'I love you' or something. I must have looked at her quizzically because she clarified. _

_"I wish you had died instead of Raffe."_

_I escaped from the hospital two days later when I was feeling strong enough._

_As it turned out, she was right. Maria Marquez was dead and in her place stood Mimi. _

Marq, feeling more relaxed and energized climbed out of the bathtub and put some clothes on. She walked over to her bed and laid down, she had at least another 4 or 5 hours of sleep before the little ones tried to wake her up. She closed her eyes letting sleep take over.

Her eyes shot open. The gifts in the car, they didn't get wrapped. She closed her eyes again. The twins were only two, like they would know the difference.

Her eyes shot open again. She spoke to Roger. Roger! Roger Davis! Her Roger. Roger, father of her children Roger, rock star Roger. Oh no. This was not good. She'd never be able to sleep now. 'Might as well wrap those presents' she thought. She picked her tired body up and hopped out of her room to her car.


	3. Christmas Fights, Christmas Coughs

Disclaimer still applies. Everyone enjoy! Give feedback!

(A/N: Mimi/Marq will now be referred to as Maria except in dialogue.)

Christmas morning came too quickly for Maria. She had barely gotten any sleep and what little she did was devoted to her rock- star. She couldn't believe she was having dirty Roger dreams. She was a mother, she wasn't supposed to have those dreams. She seemed to ignore the fact that she was only twenty three, and it had been three years since she was last pleasured. Well, she hopes Roger pleasured her when he impregnated her with his seed. She was probably too high at the time to remember.

"Are you thinking about sex? You have the sex look on your face. Or is that the 'I'm doing math in my head because I'm too lazy to get up and find the calculator' face?" Angela teased. Maria threw her tea bag at the twenty year old.

"Late night, eh?" When Maria gave her a confused face she elaborated. "Tea. You only drink tea when you get very little sleep. And I guess the fact that you are up before the twins is a dead give away."

"Should I be afraid that you know me so well?" Maria laughed. She shook her head ignoring the questions all together. Soon she went back to staring at her tea, which was cool enough to drink but she couldn't quite make herself drink it.

"Merry Christmas Marq!" Angela cheered as she sat down with a glass of orange juice and a bear claw.

"Oh yeah. You too!" Maria put on a fake smile that spread from cheek to cheek. Angela rolled her eyes.

"Such the actress." Angela whispered under her breath, purposely loud enough for Maria to hear her, though.

"Oh shut up. I'm tired and cranky."

"And you never answered my questions, I let it go before…"

"Because you live in my house and know that I can kick your ass out at any time I want." Maria interrupted her young friend with a smirk. They both knew she wouldn't though. Nobody likes to live alone. Nobody likes to live alone with two terrible toddlers.

Maria looked back down into her cup of tea. She still didn't feel like drinking it. She didn't feel like eating. And, today, she didn't feel like living. She knew that if she died her niños would be well taken care of by either Angela, her sister Lucy, or her father. Maybe even Roger would take care of her kids. His kids, she corrected herself. Their kids, she corrected herself again.

Maria knew that just giving up went against all her ideals. She knew it would be cruel to leave her children motherless. But she also knew that if she was going to die she should do so when they wouldn't remember her and her death. However, she contradicted her own thoughts, it wouldn't be fair for her children to never know their parents. Maria sighed, there was no good time to die.

"What are you thinking about?" Angela asked, hoping she'd get more than an empty threat.

"Death. Dying. Specifically how there is no good time for me to just die, not with kids who will grow up and resent me or not remember me or miss me." Maria answered. It was always awkward for her to talk about dying, especially with Angela.

"Stop it, okay. Can you leave the death talk for another day? Please?"

"Why? I mean it's going to happen at some point, might as well be prepared."

"Why? Because I don't want to talk about my friend, my best fucking friend dying on Christmas. It's not exactly a happy thought, you know." Angela wanted so bad to smack her friend, to strangle her or something.

"I know, I'm sorry. But I don't want it to come as a shock when it finally happens. I want you to be prepared. Know the numbers to call and stuff."

"Well we'll get to that when we get to it." Angela was acting so nonchalant about her death it angered her. Maria stood up to make her point.

"You don't get it do you? I could drop dead at any point. There will be no fucking warning." Angela stood up too.

"Yeah, well maybe if you stopped acting like you were fine all the time I wouldn't be surprised when you…" Angela sucked in her tears. She hoped Maria didn't notice.

"You want me to tell you stuff like I was so tired I couldn't fall asleep? Or how about I spent last night vomiting? You want to hear that I can't eat because I know I'll throw it up anyway? Is that what you want? The truth?" Maria didn't yell, she barely spoke above a whisper. She noticed how her friend was about to break down into tears. She wanted to hug Angela, she really did. She wanted to comfort her and lie to her telling her everything would be alright. What she really wanted to do was mother Angela.

"Stop it, okay. Stop it! You win. You fucking win, alright?" Angela wiped her tears away and backed away from the table. She was going to take a shower and then leave for her parent's house.

Maria sat back down at the table. She had the urge to throw her tea cup at the wall. But she didn't. She liked to think she was in much more control of her emotions than she used to be. She knew she was probably lying to herself, but it didn't matter. She stood up again and put the dishes in the sink. She'd wash them up later.

She hobbled into her living room (She didn't know where her crutches were) and plopped down on her couch. It was a used couch. It was a hideous shade of purple and had stains all over it. The previous owner had a cat so it was scratched up all over the sides and the back. And she could swear she still found cat hair inside that thing.

She didn't know how long she spent sitting on the couch staring off into space. But when she started to regain her thought process Angela was standing in front of her mockingly waving her hand in front of Maria's face. Maria glared at her young friend as she smacked the hand away.

"What?" Maria wasn't sure if they were still arguing so she kept her tone inquisitive.

"I'm heading to my folks for Christmas. Are you going to be okay today?" Angela's tone was distant so Maria could safely assume their argument was not forgotten.

"I'll be fine. Do you want to say goodbye to the twins?" Maria kept her tone even and void of emotions. She knew it was helping the situation, but she didn't know what else to do. She had always tried to be honest.

"Yeah." Angela wasn't sure if she would be coming back to Maria's that night, or ever. She didn't think she could take watch a friend die from AIDS. She had listened intently whenever Maria told her stories about Angel. She had listened because she wanted to be prepared when Maria died. Angela just wasn't too sure if she could emotionally handle her best friend's passing.

"I'll wake them up. Give me a second." Angela watched as Maria struggled to stand up, she knew it wasn't the sprained ankle that made Maria wince. She stared at Maria's retreating back and when her hair moved to one side she could see the lesions. Angela kicked herself inwardly. It wasn't as if Maria was hiding her illness, it was just that she was too scared to take notice of it.

But still, Angela didn't know if she wanted to keep faking ignorance or accept Maria's screaming truth. Death was inevitable, sure, but she had never watched someone die. She didn't think she was strong enough. So she was running. Maybe. She didn't know yet.

"Angel"

"Angie" Two tired little voices cried out. She could hear the pitter patter of their running little feet and the soft slow steps of her friend and mentor.

"Angie" the little girl jumped up and down waiting for Angela to pick her up. The little boy stayed back a few steps waiting his turn. Angela quickly picked up the little girl and twirled her around in a fast circle. The girl giggled before demanding to be put down and rushing over to her mother.

"Come here Dominic." The little boy jumped into her outstretched arms and Angela spun him around too. Once the boy was down, he began coughing and Angela felt bad. Her eyes met Maria's panicked eyes. She knew the drill.

Angela ran over to Dinah, the little girl, and rushed her to the kitchen for juice. Maria was at Dominic's side almost instantly. She had spent so much time worrying about her own death she hadn't considered the possibility of her child dying before her. She patted Dominic's back until the coughing subsided. She picked him and whispered a Spanish lullaby in her ear while carrying him to the bathroom. She handed him a chewable 'vitamin' and a sippy cup full of water. If the coughing persisted she would give him prescription cough syrup and if that didn't work she'd spend her Christmas in a hospital. It wouldn't be her first. Luckily enough, Dominic stopped coughing.

When she opened the bathroom door Dominic was running out towards the kitchen. He was hungry, he had told his mother moments before. Maria followed quickly at his side just incase any other symptoms emerged. Upon entering the kitchen she helped Angela fasten Dominic in his high chair. She then walked over to her daughter and kissed her on the head.

"Te amo." She whispered to her daughter. She quickly looked at both children and upon noticing that they were both immersed in their cheerios she followed Angela into the kitchen.

"You don't have to do that." Maria said upon noticing Angela cleaning her kitchen.

"In fact you don't have to do anything." She continued.

"I want to. You need help. I'm here to help." Angela didn't look up to meet Maria's eyes.

"Angela. I think I have been too selfish to realize this, but…" Maria stopped. She had to get the wording just right, she didn't need to mess things up anymore than they are.

"Marq I do these things because I want to help you out. You helped me out, I'm just repaying you." Angela knew that was going to miss her bus if she didn't leave soon, but she couldn't make herself move.

"I've never expected you to repay me. I guess that when you did, I got used to it. I don't know if I've ever said thank you, but well, Thank you Ang."

"Marq, I uh… You're welcome. But it's not just the giving me a place to stay, it's everything. It's telling me the future, showing me the future. You've always been honest with me and I thank you for that. I don't think…"

"Mama"

"Mama!" The twins cried out in synch. Maria gave Angela a sympathetic look before walking over to her babies.

"I'm going to uh, head out now. Merry Christmas." Angela walked over to Maria and hugged her. She then kissed each of the kids on the head.

"When are you coming back?" Maria asked over the screaming cheerio fight.

"I don't know. I don't know if I will." It didn't take long for Maria to get up and pulled her friend into a deep hug.

"I wish there was something I could say to change your mind. I'll miss you so much. God. I love you. You know I've always considered you my second Angel. Oh man, I will you miss you." Maria tried to stop herself from crying but as tears rolled down her face she realized she failed. She sniffled and broke the hug to wipe away her tears. She was going to be okay. She was going to be okay. She was going to be okay. And maybe, if she kept telling herself that she won't cry herself to sleep.

Angela, though incredibly touched to be considered a friend like Angel, once she and Maria parted, walked out of the house. It wasn't until she got to the bus stop that she let herself cry.

Maria tried her best to not cry. But, like Angela, it was hard to come to terms with losing a friend. Maria feared she just lost a very dear friend of hers. She wiped away any tears that escaped and focused on her twins, her sole reason for living.

"Babies, why do you have to be so sloppy?" She rhetorically asked. The twins suddenly became very quiet, Maria couldn't help but look at them suspiciously. When nothing happened she decided to enjoy the sudden quietness and continue to clean up the kitchen.

And then a cheerio hit her forehead.

The giggles of her daughter gave no clue as to which twin was the guilty one.

"Dinah! That was not very nice." Maria tried to contain her laughter. She tried to keep a straight face. But the situation was hilarious. A young mother, tired and fragile looking, cleaning up after her twins' cereal fight on Christmas day when all of a sudden it's becomes deathly quiet. So quiet that not even a mouse was stirring. The mother inspects the children, presumably to see if they were naughty or nice, and upon finding no evidence of foul play accepts the eerie silence as a blessing and continues her cleaning when all of a sudden a cheerio is thrown at her.

"You are more like your father than you'll ever know." Maria muttered as she picked up the cheerio and threw it back at Dinah.

"If you two want to fight then I should tell you. I have an endless supply of ammo and it looks like you're running low." Dominic threw a handful of cheerios her way, followed by a few more from Dinah. Maria did the only thing she knew how to do, she fought back.

"Guess I'll clean this up later." She announced to no one in particular.

Ten minutes or so later Maria and the twins were sitting around the Christmas tree opening presents. Dinah, such a mama's girl, was sitting in her mothers lap while Dominic, sitting a few feet away from the Marquez women, was already playing with a toy train. The phone rang and Maria let it go to the answering machine. She wasn't about to interrupt her family bonding session for whoever thought they were important enough to call.

"You've reached 555-0414, we don't like you. Don't call back." Maria's voice antagonized the caller.

"leave a message and we'll get back to you. Like that dumbass, now were going have to re-recor." Angela's voice was heard in the background before the beep cut her off. They never did get around to re-recording.

"Mimi, it's Roger. I just wanted to say Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas!" A chorus of voices sang in the background. Maria could only assume they were the voices of Mark, Maureen, Joanne and Collins.

"Um. If I don't hear from you before, but um,"

"It's so cute, Rock god Roger doesn't know what to say." Maureen's voice could easily be heard in the background. Maria couldn't help but laugh at this.

"Shut up, Maureen. Um Anyway we're all getting together at the Life for"

"Wine and Beer!" Everyone chorused.

"and you're invited of course." It was silent for a second.

"When?" Maria found herself asking out loud. Dinah looked up at her and laughed. Dominic threw a discarded ribbon at her.

"Tell her when." Joanne's voice ordered Roger.

"Oh right, tomorrow night at ten. You know to celebrate when we all met. I'm going to go now, Merry Christmas." Roger hung up the phone. Maria shook her head in amazement. It was like time stood still. It was like Roger never went to Santa Fe, she never ran away on a drug binge, and of course Angel never died.

The door to Maria's house opened. Maria looked over at the intruder, silently hoping it was Angela.

"Hey sweetheart." Her dad greeted her. He placed down a bag full of presents and food and gathered up his grandchildren in his arms.

"Let Mommy take a shower. Grandpa's got some candy."

"Is that what you say to all the little kids in the park?" Maria's sister Lucy asked. Everyone laughed, even the twins who laughed because everyone else laughed.

"Go on, little sister. We got them." Lucy grabbed the food bag and walked into the kitchen.

"Maria! Get back here and clean the kitchen.!" Lucy demanded.

"Sorry. I smell." Maria closed the door to her room and hoped into the shower. Sure she took a bath last night, but nobody needed to know that.

"Hey. There's my crutches!"


	4. Ready or Not: Forget Regret

Disclaimer: I do not own Rent.

Chapter 4: Ready or not: Forget Regret

Maria spent most of Christmas day contemplating whether she should go to the Life Café and see all her old friends. She didn't want to cut them out of her life, well it wasn't her intention. She loved them all. But when Angel died and she and Roger broke up she convinced herself that there was no connection holding her there, wanting her there. So when she left the clinic and resigned herself to die, she didn't think anyone would care, or look for her. When Maureen and Joanne had told her that they looked desperately for her, Maria was surprised.

"What's up kiddo?" Maria's dad asked her when he noticed her staring off into space.

"I was just thinking Papa. Did you look for me when I ran away?"

"Yes, of course. Constantly. The doctors said you couldn't possibly survive out in the cold with a wound like… what you had. The police believed the doctors and stopped looking after a month. But I, I never stopped looking." He smiled at her, wondering what was going through her head.

"You know, your mother would like to see you. She's always calling me and Lucy, asking us about you. She's sorry. For whatever she said. Why don't you give her an opportunity to apologize?"

"She's not my mother!" Maria shouted coldly. Maria's father sighed. Marquez women could be so stubborn, and Maria was no exception.

Maria got up and walked to her bedroom. Her mother was a sore subject for her. She had tried hard to find a way to forgive her mother, but every time she tried she's found herself crying and a wreck. In Maria's eyes, it wasn't worth the pain. A long time ago she had told herself to forget regret. And so maybe the repetition of the saying caused her to overlook that maybe all that pain she felt when looking back on that moment is because she's missed her mother. Or maybe she was just too stubborn to admit it.

_Running away from the hospital was no easier than escaping from catholic boarding school, and certainly no easier than escaping under house arrest. But I had done it before, so I couldn't be bothered to take into account that I was weak and wounded and potentially sick. After the nurses came by and administered the pain killer, I decided to make a run for it, after all I felt like I was walking on air (morphine). I quickly pulled the IV out and hopped out of bed. It was more like fall out of bed, but that doesn't really matter. I excited my room and looked out the hall, it was empty, aside from a couple of nurses watching the television. And then I made a run for it. It was a simple getaway. The nurses hadn't noticed, but I think deep down I wanted them to. I wanted them to notice me and chase me down the halls, to call security when the situation got a little too ridiculous. I wanted security to take me down, drag me back to my room and tell me that life sucks, and that's just how life is. Maybe I didn't want security to notice, maybe I didn't want the nurses to notice, maybe I really wanted my father to notice, my sister to notice and maybe even my mother to notice. But nobody noticed, maybe that's what I wanted. _

_With all this talk about what I might have wanted, I can't help but think what did I want. Even as a child I never really strived to be something. I never really saved up my money to buy anything. I was just a kid, a fifteen year old kid, who had no expectations for her own life. I didn't have any money, I didn't have any clothes, I didn't have a future. I had never planned one out. I liked literature and poetry and dance and flirting with boys. I liked being a kid who didn't worry about the future, who never had any aspirations to be a doctor or a writer or anything. And I suppose in the long run, my lack of future kept me on the streets. I didn't have anything to go back to, no dream to try to live._

_So when I walked out that hospital door and the cold air hit my face. I didn't turn back, because I didn't have anything back there. My mother told me to die, (I was going to die), my sister visited me once, my father wasn't around, I had been raped, and my brother was dead. I didn't feel like I had a home, and I certainly had no plans to find a home. I just didn't want to be there, or in the hospital, or alone._

_I ran a few blocks away from the hospital, I never looked back, but I wanted to. When I ran out of breath, I turned down an alley way. I still wasn't thinking straight, I was still high off morphine. I walked down the alley and weaseled by way between some boxes. I closed my eyes._

_When I woke up the pain killer had worn off and I was in immense pain. A bullet into the chest hurts like a mother fucker. I could barely breathe, and I only managed to because holding my breath or not breathing hurt too. My eyes were welling up with tears and I tried to block out the cold. The doctors had said that the smallest of colds could weaken my immune system immensely. I don't know why I had remembered that then, but it didn't put me at ease, nor had it not. _

_It had probably been a few days since I had walked down the alley and I hadn't left. I had rolled onto my stomach, somehow it eased my pain a little. Truthfully I had expected some person of authority to find me, I wasn't that far away from the hospital. But my first human contact was someone not looking to find me, in fact they were skin heard smoking a joint and harassing homosexuals. At this point I hadn't known Raffe to be gay, and despite my strong catholic beliefs, I never thought there to be anything wrong with people trying to find love. Maybe it was the beatnik poets, that had influenced my thoughts. _

_"Hey fag boy…" One of the skin heads started. I just kept still._

_"No I think it's a fag girl" the other one antagonized._

_"Maybe it's a trannie…" the first one started again._

_"Actually I'm a drag queen. And let me tell you something boys, I'm more of a man then you'll ever be and more of a woman than you'll ever get." _

_"Let's get him." The skin heads went after the drag queen but the drag queen raised her foot and kicked them down with her heels. One of them fell back and hit my foot. I winced but didn't move. The skin head looked down at my bare foot, which must have been freezing and he freaked out._

_"Let's get of here." The skin head grabbed his friend and ran out of the alley. _

_I was really cold and in a lot of pain. I didn't know why but I felt that I could trust the drag queen. I mean what's the worst that can happen, A) She runs off scared for her life, B) kicks me with her boots, C) forces me to go to the hospital and return home. _

_"Excuse me…Help…" I spoke but my voice was so soft and sore from not being used for the last couple of days that I didn't think I would be heard. But I was._

_"Is anyone there?" I heard the voice and tried to move or speak or do something to attract attention but instead I just starting crying. I wasn't aware of anything until I felt a warm hand on my back. _

_"Are you okay?" I didn't answer I just started crying more. The voice was so calm and so caring. I thought I was being touched by an angel._

_"Are you an Angel?" I finally said. I guess I must have thought I had died._

_"No, my name is Dumont. But I am trying to come up with a non gender specific name, so thanks for the suggestion." Dumont laughed, and I felt compelled to laughed back, so I did._

_"Can you walk?" Dumont asked. I nodded my head, and tried to stand. The pain in my chest burned and as much as I tried to work through it, I couldn't. I shook my head and started to cry again._

_"Here I got you girl. No need to cry." Dumont picked me up and cradled me in his arms. _

_"Honey, I may dress like a woman, but I have the strength of a man. And you, my dear child, weigh like nothing. So don't you give me that surprised look." Dumont was easy to get along with even though I had hardly spoken a word to him._

_"Where are you taking me?" I asked panicked, although I do not why._

_"Home. Well, to my home. Is there anywhere else you'd like to be?" Dumont asked this with a hint of sarcasm, like he or she or in between identities knew I was a runaway._

_"That's fine. I'm really tired." I closed my eyes to relax but eventually I fell asleep. When I woke up I was covered in blankets and laying in a semi comfortable bed._

_"Angel?" I called out, again I didn't know why, especially since his name was Dumont. However, Dumont showed up within seconds, he was no longer wearing his drag. I wondered how long I had been sleeping._

_"I'm boiling some water, to clean that wound of yours. It looks pretty nasty and the dressing probably should have been changed days ago." Dumont looked at me, maybe trying to read me or convince me to go back to the hospital. I opened my mouth to explain but quickly shut it when I realized I didn't really want to explain._

_"I'm not here to pry, sweetie. I just want to help, but you got to trust me a little." I nodded my head._

_"I need you to take off your shirt." Considering what had started this whole thing, I was mortified at that request. I trusted Dumont, oddly enough, but I wasn't about to take my shirt off in front of some man._

_"Honey. I need to clean that wound. You've bled through the dressing and your, uh, um, hospital gown. It could get infected or something. Do you understand?" I never understood why Dumont had asked me that._

_"It's just uh, my uncle, he uh, and then, and I just can't." Dumont nodded sadly, he put together the words and filled in the blank. I was afraid, though, that Dumont would just take it off for me._

_"I'll be right back, chica." When Dumont returned he was wearing his drag. Well, his wig and his dress. No boots and no makeup, but it was sufficient enough to make me relax and take off my shirt. _

_"Angel, my angel, there's uh something you should know." I stopped her right before she was able to clean my wound. _

_"I uh, probably have HIV." Dumont looked at me and smiled sadly. _

_"Yeah, sweetie, me too." _

_That was how I met my Angel. Dumont who later became Angel Dumont Schunard. Angel who saved me from the cold, who saved me from a definite death. Angel who was my friend and my soul mate and who died in her lovers arms claiming that life was worth living. _

Maria rolled over and looked at the alarm clock. Had she really fallen asleep for a few hours? It was the best sleep she had gotten in weeks. It was uninterrupted by pitter pattering little munchkin feet, no upset stomach or coughing attacks, and no stupid 4 am alarm clocks. She rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling. Her eyes were a little blurry and when she went to rub them she noticed they were wet.

"Hey!" Maria turned to the doorway and there stood Angela.

"Hi." Maria answered meekly.

"Dreaming about Angel again?" Angela asked. Maria simply nodded.

"At least I slept." Angela nodded.

"So, um, what happened?"

"I remembered why I ran away in the first place. Is it alright if crash your party and your, uh home, for you know, like forever."

"Eh, beats having to clean your room." Maria answered nonchalantly, but the huge smile on her face was a dead give away.

"So I heard the message from Roger. You going?" Angela was back for two minutes and was already prying into her personal life. Angela reminded Maria of Maureen, always trying to gossip and have fun and avoid the deep questions.

"I wanted to, I thought I would, but I am not ready. I can't see him, not now, not with the twins and Dominic being so sick. I can't see Collins, I can't see Mark, I can't even see Benny. It's just too soon. I don't want to see the girls either. I moved on, Angela."

"Seems to me, you haven't moved on at all." Lucy, who was standing behind Angela, remarked.

"If you moved on, little hermana, you'd want to see them. It sounds like you're avoiding them, you're afraid. Of what? I don't know. But I think, you're afraid they're mad at you, that they'll complicate your life. But that's just what I think." Lucy backed away at Maria's evil stare with her hands up in the air.

"I think you should at least call." Angela said before walking off. "Oh and Dinner is in fifteen minutes." She yelled back at the young mother.

After dinner and after the kids were put to bed, which was easy since they had spent all day running around and playing with their toys, Maria sat by the phone. She stared at it, hoping it would combust. But finally she dialed the number to the loft, she hoped she got the generic "Speak" message machine.

"Speeeaaaaakkkk" The voices of Roger, Mark, and Collins filled the air. Maria took a deep breath.

"Hi, this is um Mimi, I got your message Rog…" The phone was picked up.

"…er…"

"Hey, Mimi, it's Mark. How you doing? You are coming to the Life, right? It'll be so much fun. I think we can get Benny to come and be an asshole if you'd life. Roger would really like it, if you came…"

"Mark, slow down, please. I can't go. I want to, I really do, but I have a previous engagement to attend to. Wow, that sounded really lame and uh posh. Honestly, Mark, I'm not ready… to see him." Maria squinted her eyes closed and hoped that Mark would understand.

"Oh, yeah I understand. If you change your mind though…"

"I'll definitely be there." She cut him off.

"Well um, bye." Mark hung up the phone before she could respond. She sighed. No, she didn't regret this, it was for the best.

Mark looked over at Roger, who had just walked in the loft. Roger had a huge smile on his face, obviously excited about seeing Mimi, who clearly didn't want to see him. Roger put the groceries down on the metal table and walked over to the duct tape couch and plopped down.

"Rog, that was Mimi on the phone." Roger sat up and looked at Mark.

"You couldn't keep her on for a few more minutes. I'd like to hear her voice again." Roger's smile got bigger as he once again imagined seeing Mimi. Mark suddenly hated his best friend responsibilities. He could easily lie to Roger, hell Mimi tried to lie, but she was honest in the end. And as much as Mark wanted to trust his instincts and be mad at Mimi, he couldn't. This was hard for her, she had to step back into a life she left behind. She had to see a man that left her while she was dying, whose absence clearly made her want to die or disappear. No, Mark couldn't blame her for not being ready.

"Roger, she can't make it. She said she wasn't ready to see you." Mark hated watching Rogers face fall, but it did, and he did.

"Oh. Well, we're still going, right?" Mark nodded his head and Roger grabbed the phone, the gum wrapper, and sauntered off to his room.

"Hello" Maria answered in a yawn.

"When will you be ready?" Roger asked, clearly annoyed.

A/N: Sorry for the delay my faithful readers. I tend to write when i should be doing school work or something, and now that the term began i'm back to writing my stories. And truthfully all your recent reviews reminded me of this story, so kudos to you. I hope the wait is worth it. Sorry there isn't much Roger/Mimi dialogue. But you have to understand, Maria isn't ready to step back into her old life. She's afraid to love again, she's afraid to live again. Roger represents love and life. But next chapter, she'll be thrown together with them all. I'm not sure if Roger will find out he's a father though. And there is, of course, no guareentee that while i am waiting for your reviews, i won't change any of what i just wrote. Also, i don't think this is clear but her fatherobviously didn't read her book. If you want, i'll address that in the next chapter. Also, you can also tell me your ideas. I'll more than likely be able to write it in, unless of course you just want mimi/roger action, in which case you're in it for the long run. Anyway, i hope you enjoyed.


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